People -- what have you done --Locked Him in His golden cage.Made Him bend to your religion --Him resurrected from the grave.He is the god of nothing --If that's all that you can see.You are the god of everything --He's inside you and me.So lean upon Him gentlyAnd don't call on Him to save youFrom your social gracesAnd the sins you used to waive.The bloody Church of England --In chains of history --Requests your earthly presence atThe vicarage for tea.And the graven image you-know-who --With His plastic crucifix --He's got him fixed --Confuses me as to who and where and why --As to how he gets his kicks.Confessing to the endless sin --The endless whining sounds.You'll be praying till next Thursday toAll the gods that you can count.